


You Don't Fuck Another Bro's Girl

by o0kaymawn0o



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bottom Sam, Butthurt Dean, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Come on my Cock, Cumslut Sam, Currently Unrequited Wincest, Dean does not bottom but he does have stuff in his butt, Dean has to watch Sam get fucked, Dean makes the mistake of fucking a frat bros girl, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, For every guy that comes inside Sam Dean gets injected with a round of jizz, Forced Incest, Fuck Or Die, Guilty Dean, Guilty Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, IT'S IMPORTANT TO ADD HOW MUCH THE SEX PART IS, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Dean, Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealous Sam, Jealous Sam Winchester, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Multiple Penetration, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Dean, Possessive Dean Winchester, Possessive Sam, Possessive Sam Winchester, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sam doesn't mind doing this for Dean, Sexual Tension, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Dean, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Wincset, kind of, slutty sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0kaymawn0o/pseuds/o0kaymawn0o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a hunt leads Sam and Dean to a fraternity, Dean decides to re-live his youth for a little while. Without realizing it, he ends up screwing the leader of Alpha Psi Alpha's girl. After a tussle, Sam and Dean wake up in a room, with their bodies being detained by groups of frat brothers, and Jason--the leader, is ready to tell them Dean's punishment.</p>
<p>“The normal punishment for a Bro fucking anther Bro’s girl is being the house bitch for a week. As you’re an outsider, it doesn’t apply to you. With this in mind, I’ve decided on a substitute. Keep him tame, brothers. Here’s what’s going to happen to your Sammy—you screwed my girl, so all of us are going to fuck your little brother, because if you have a girl, she’s not here, and this is the next best option."</p>
<p>“Just do it to me, all right? Sammy doesn’t deserve this. He’s innocent. I fucked your girl, or whatever. So punish me! Please."</p>
<p>“This is a jar that has been filled with all of my brothers’ cum for the past year. When a brother shoots a load inside your precious Sammy, you’ll experience the same load in your ass—basically, we’ll use a pump—and so on and so forth. By the end of it, both of you will be equally as full."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Fuck Another Bro's Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I watched a porno with something similar to this idea, and the juices started flowing. ;D 
> 
> Onwards~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

Sam has never seen Dean this happy in his entire life. Figures that Dean would enjoy pretending to be the brother of an ex _Alpha Psi Alpha._ Luckily, Sam had managed to convince this fraternity that he used to be a member roughly ten years ago now. They had been sceptical at first, but when he succeeded in proving that he passed the initiation in his time, they had been more than welcoming—announcing to all the brothers that they had a fifty-first generation in their midst. Sam had waved conventionally to the group of young men, who looked like all they wanted to do was pour more alcohol down their throats and make out with their girl’s. When the leader—Jason—said that he should make a speech, Sam politely refused, shouting that it’s all about getting fucked up, right? Not surprisingly, his declaration received a whooping applause, and a chanting of their fraternity motto.

Right now, Sam stands by the keg, scouting the perimeter. The Winchester’s have a job to do while they are here—Dean’s just having problems keeping his eyes to himself. Sam doesn’t blame him. The man never had the chance to experience any of this. College may not have ever been on Dean’s mind, but Sam did used to think that Dean would be exactly like these fraternity brothers, had life turned out a different way for them. Fraternities held absolutely no interest to Sam. It’s just a bunch of jocks thinking they’re the dogs bollocks, throwing party after party, and failing their courses because they’re too hungover in the morning to make it to their classes.

Sam huffs, rolling his eyes. Dean’s chatting up everything that moves. He’s getting away with it. Dude still has his looks, and the girls are three sheets to the wind by this point, so Dean could have his pick if he so chose to. Sam can’t have Dean being distracted right now. They have a job to do—a job that Dean insisted that they take. Yeah, Sam gets why Dean had been cramming this hunt down Sam’s throat the moment it came up in the news. For Sam’s part, he has fished around for a few answers. No one has any idea what happened. Just that Todd wound up hanging like a crucifix at the head of their fraternity house. Sam tried to press for more information, maybe compile a list of witnesses or enemies—slim chance, but they always have to take into consideration that this disaster could be at the hands of another human.

If Sam was made of meaner stuff, he might be telling his big brother off right now. Fact is, he doesn’t. Dean looks like he’s having a really good time, and Sam would hate to take that away from him. Sam could always take this one on by himself, and catch up with Dean later when he has a better handle on what it is that they are dealing with here, and how they are going to disable the problem. Yeah, Sam can do that. Dean will most likely be pissed at him for going off on his own, but he’s not paying attention right now, so what’s the harm?

With everything decided, Sam tips his beer on the grass, having not taken a single sip—just pretending to. He can’t be impaired while he’s working to put all the pieces together. He can run the risk of missing crucial parts to the puzzle if he’s even slightly inebriated. Not to mention his history with alcohol consumption. Sure, he’s not as bad as he used to be—not even close. Beer, he can sort of handle. It’s anything stronger that can get to him.

Sam finds his way inside the house, leaving Dean to his own devices, sandwiched between two girls. It faintly reminds him of the time that Dean had been destined to go to Hell, and Sam allowed him a night with two lovely ladies. Sam had caught a glimpse of his brother’s package before he shielded the windows, as well as a slither of Dean’s rear. Sam had already known that Dean’s body was flawless—that just highlighted that fact. At the time, he hadn’t meant to take a peep. It had just been curiosity—Dean used to bathe him all the time when he was a kid, so Sam had just been that bit curious to see how Dean had developed. Sam had only one word at the forefront of his mind, and that had been _perfect._ After that moment, Sam started to catch himself admiring his brother’s body more often than he should ever have been. When Dean would work on fixing his Baby, spread out on the floor, hips inadvertently shifting, Sam wouldn’t be able to help but stare. The whole thing had come as a huge shock to Sam. Prior to that, no homosexual fantasies had crossed his mind. Yet, later that night, Sam found himself loading gay porn videos, searching for a man that resembled his big brother, and then imagined that same man giving it to him good.

That first time several years ago now, Sam came harder than ever before.

He knows that it’s wrong. That he shouldn’t be thinking of Dean in that way. But Dean makes it so difficult for him to stop. The way that Dean flirts, leaning close, warm air brushing those lucky girls ears, voice dropping a few octaves to release the panty-dropping effect—that’s what Sam wants from him. He wants to see how Dean charms these girls into bed, and be seduced into fulfilling whatever need Dean might have. It’s all he ever thinks about when he isn’t dead focused on a case. Sam is sure that Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea. If he did, he wouldn’t walk around in the morning in nothing but boxer briefs—ones that show off his _big_ package and pert butt.

Sam thought about what it would be like to switch it up if they were ever together in that way. He decided that he would definitely do it if that’s what Dean wanted, but preferred the idea of Dean making love to him. Maybe it’s because Dean’s always looked after him, and Sam likes to think that Dean would be so passionate if they were locked in the chain of carnal desire. Also, he’s recently become addicted to pleasuring his prostate to the thought of Dean gently rocking into him, speeding up only when Sam’s ready for it.

Before Sam becomes hard on the spot, he pushes those sinful thoughts to the back of his mind for now. He has to be ready for anything that he might find in here. His first idea is some sort of sacrificial God—one that puts the fear of the Lord in people. This is just a theory at the moment, and Sam’s going to have to do some serious sleuthing if he’s to transition from having nothing, to having a solid lead. The other hypothesis is that a member of _Alpha Psi Alpha_ was murdered at some point, and this is how he takes revenge. Finding a connection between the past victims would be a huge help. They’re all male; all the same age—Sam supposes that it might have something to do with the personalities that they possessed when they were alive.

Avoiding the drunken people in his way, Sam ducks into the room marked _hAll of fAme._ He disregards the juvenile way they’ve purposefully highlighted the first letter of _Alpha_ for their fraternity, and locates a filing cabinet. Pushing down his astonishment that they have something this organised, Sam begins his search for Todd. Fortunately enough, there is only one Todd in this generation. Sam opens up the file, sifting through the scores that the kid got for his initiation. Sam immediately deduces that the guy is a bit of a player—a comment section depicts that he wing-manned a few guys, then took their catch away from them. Sam notes that down on an imaginary notepad in his head. That could be something useful to look out for in order to develop a _modus operandi._ Something similar pops up about a fraternity brother named Charlie Jones. Same sort of attitude as Todd, and suffered the same fate.

Considering he doesn’t know the whole story yet, Sam’s not sure if he should feel sorry for them, or lean towards maybe thinking that they kind of deserved it. No one dies just for being a dog, otherwise Dean would have been butchered alive a thousand times over. Being a dog isn’t a death sentence, Sam deduces, loading the files back into their rightful places. Now that he has a bit more to go on, that’s what he should follow up with.

Having gone about unnoticed, Sam finds it easy to fall back into the crowd as if he never left, repositioning himself at the keg stand. That’s where he has the most opportunities to talk to these people, so this is where he has to stay. If Dean noticed that he wondered off on his own, he’s done nothing in ways of scolding the younger Winchester. Sam snorts. Dean’s probably off having way too much fun. What Sam wouldn’t give sometimes to be the person that Dean’s taking to a bed. Dreams are a enough of an incentive at the moment. Sam just hopes that he never ends up in a situation where he can’t help but tell the truth. He knows that Dean would never leave him if he found out—things just wouldn’t be the same between them for the foreseeable future.

Some drunks turn out to be more helpful than others. Especially the girl’s that spent the night with either one of them. They told Sam how much of a jerk they turned out to be in the morning, kicking them to the curb without so much as a how do you do—while also coming on to Sam, which he politely declined, and they screamed to their friends that more people should be like him--, finally returning to the point that Todd couldn’t just avoid her. This isn’t a whole State or a corner of the world, it’s a college campus. People bump into each other, and they shared a few of the same classes. To a certain extent, Sam got where she was coming from, but she whined so much he was having a hard time feeling any sympathy for the girl.

At the end of the day, when you throw yourself at someone, they can end up being a douche.

Several drunk girl’s later, and a few attempts to sloppily make out with him, Sam has what he needs to start making something of this. He can already feel himself leaning more towards a haunting—a vengeful spirit. Although, now he’s thinking that it’s less to do with a fraternity brother, and more on the line of a girl that had been used for the last time. Sam imagines that something must have happened to her. He also suspects that she had been religious when she was alive, due to her use of crucifying the poor bastards. Hey, if they did something to her to make her that way, they had it coming, but it is Sam and Dean’s job to take care of problems like this, so it just became theirs.

Sighing, Sam strolls up to the house. It’s time that he find his wayward brother, and get on with this. To be honest, he really wants to leave. The smell of sick and copious amounts of sweat is starting to make him nauseated. When this is all over, and they make it back to the bunker, Sam is jumping straight in the shower. He can already sense the heat of the drops on his skin.

* * *

 

Dean is having the time of his life here. College could definitely have been a part of his life if this is what it would be like. All these girl’s falling all over him— _old enough—_ , experienced and raring to go. It’s been a while since he’s felt this good. A long time since he’s been able to let go like this, enjoy himself, and unleash his carnal desires. He can’t believe how easy this is. If he wasn’t as horny as he is, he might try a bit harder to be nicer or to sleep with someone that isn’t completely smashed. Truth is, that seems like way too much effort.

Besides, he helped them back into their clothes after he finished, and offered them a bottle of water. Sam would have bitch-faced him to the end of the world if he just left her for all the other hungry brother’s to take. And, yes. Maybe he does care about her well-being, but only slightly. If he cared about every girl he slept with, he wouldn’t have any for the important stuff, like his _Sammy_ and his Baby. They’re the only ones that mean something to him. Something more than a quick fuck, or a quickie blowjob in a bathroom stall. To Dean, they’re his entire world. Not that he’ll ever admit that to Sam—or the fact that maybe; _just maybe—_ his lanky brother is number one on the list of things that are important to him.

In moments like when they turned up here, and Dean became hard enough to cut glass in mere seconds, Dean wishes the parameters of their relationship could be altered for certain occasions. These girl’s are hot—nice boobs, cute asses, but nothing compares to the raw beauty of Dean’s younger brother, Sammy. Those broad shoulders that would flex with each thrust of Dean’s hips—those large hands wrapping around his cock, leading it into Sam’s mouth, full lips sliding all the way to the base—Dean stops himself. He just got laid. He doesn’t want to have to go shopping again. Not now, when he actually has some kind of job to do; just having a hard time remembering what it might be.

Dean’s felt this way for a very long time. Even before Sam developed into the mouth-watering man that he is today, Dean has been craving Sam’s body. He thinks that it began around Sam’s fourteenth birthday, when the kid tried his best to get out of Dean’s grip in their sparring, and Dean ended up pinning Sam to the floor on his front. He released his brother as soon as he started to realize he had been getting turned on. Sparring after that was more about showing Sam steps, instead of grappling with the younger man.

Too much risk would come from that.

Forcing those feelings back into their prison, Dean puts them on lock down. He zips up his fly, ready to search for his brother when a sound from the doorway catches his attention. Dean turns to face the guy that pretended he knew Sam a few hours ago when they got here. He doesn’t remember his name, but they did have a brief conversation, agreeing on some girl’s boobs.

“Hey, dude,” Dean says, grinning.

Jason narrows his eyes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Frowning, Dean stands up, staring the kid down. “What do you mean? Isn’t this what happens at all parties—“

“You don’t fuck a Bro’s girl, dude. Rule number one,” Jason spits, glaring daggers at Dean. Dean wants to laugh when the guy puffs his chest out. Does he seriously think that he can take Dean on his own? Rolling his shoulders back, Dean cracks his knuckles, egging the kid on to give it his best shot, but to watch the face—that’s the money maker. “You’re gonna need more than plastic surgery when I’m finished with you, mother fucker,” Jason growls, performing a ritualistic chant that confuses the hell out of Dean.

“Okay. That’s real cute and all, but wha—“ he closes his mouth as a group of the brothers start bursting into the room, mimicking Jason’s chant. What the hell is happening here? They start crowding on him. “If you think I’m just gonna come along quietly, you’ve got another thing coming,” Dean declares, throwing the first punch. It knocks one of the brothers on his ass, head slamming against the hardwood floor. Dean engages his usual fighting position, deploying his defence tactics. He slams his foot into a hard stomach, knocking the air out of some brunet sap, avoiding the mediocre jab from some skinny dude. Dean uses the bed to his advantage, getting to higher ground. They start diving for his ankles, so he jumps on top of their backs, army-rolling to the entrance of the door. He quickly shoves Jason out of the way, deciding then and there that nine against one isn’t the smartest thing to take on right now—especially when there’s a lot more where that came from.

Dean cuts corners until he reaches the stairs, narrowly avoiding some guy that clearly hits the gym way too often. Taking the steps two at a time, Dean plummets to the bottom floor, dashing out into the garden party, doing his best to blend in. He needs to get to Sam so they can figure some way out of this. That chant hasn’t stopped since it started, and Dean’s beginning to wonder if this is a cover for a Russian sleeper agents unit.

With the chant growing in range, every douchebag at this party turns to him. Clearly that repetitive piece of shit song is some sort of code for whatever it is that the brother is accused of. Dean rolls his eyes—maybe he wouldn’t like this as much as he thought he would. Dean’s not into cults. They’re full of weirdoes that only want to kill you.

Dean spots Sam near the keg stand, pouring a drink for some really drunk girl that is coming onto him. Dean bites back the jealousy welling up in his gut, and barrels towards them. His right hand slams into Sam’s shoulder, and not seconds later they’re both running towards the Impala.

“Dude, what the fuck did you do?”

“Would you believe me if I said nothing?”

Even running, Sam manages to pull off his trademark bitch-face. “Only an idiot would believe that.”

“Look, I don’t know. I screwed some chick, and then that Jason kid was yipping about not fucking another Bro’s girl or some shit,” Dean answers, glancing back briefly. He can’t believe that the whole fucking fraternity is hunting them down. Sometimes he wonders if killing some people would be acceptable—starting with this group of assholes.

“What are we gonna do, Dean?”

Dean looks at him like he grew a second head. “I don’t know... We could shoot them?”

Sam huffs. “Are you serious right now, dude? They are literally chasing us with pitchforks and torch—“

Peering over his shoulder one last time, Dean smirks. “Actually, it’s more like bats and hockey clubs.”

 Glaring, Sam adds, “This is no time for your jokes, Dean. I finally had something back there, and you had to go around and fuck the first thing with a pulse,” Sam snaps, clearly pissed at Dean for getting them into this sticky situation. Why did he have to park so far away from campus? Oh, that’s right. He didn’t want to risk anyone scratching his Baby. 

As if it _isn’t_ a terrible song on repeat, the brother’s haven’t let up for one second with their dumb chanting. Dean’s starting to assume that the chant has something to do with betrayal. Why would it, though? He’s not a brother. He wonders what the consequences might be for him—

“DON’T STOP UNTIL WE GET HIM—THIS WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED! ALPHA PSI ALPHA RETRIBUTION WILL BE OURS,” Jason yells at the top of his lungs, and Dean really wants someone to put a sock in the guys mouth. What a whiney asshole. Why would these lame dicks follow that guy? He’s not leader material—making you deaf for free is more up his alley.

Dean skids to a halt immediately when Sam’s face hits the floor, a rock laying to his side. He glares bloody murder at the group of young men slowing their steps, starting to crowd them with stony looks on their faces.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people? If he’s hurt, you better run home to your Mommies, because I will fucking kill you,” Dean promises, turning Sam over on his side. “It’s okay, Sammy. You’re gonna be all right, okay? It’s just a scratch—“

And then it all goes black for him.

 

When Dean comes to, he assumes that he’s in the same position Sam is right now. Arms held out and forced to stay on his knees. Well, this is humiliating for him. Haze clearing from his mind, Dean immediately starts to struggle.

“Sammy? Sam? Are you okay?” Dean snaps, sounding desperate. He could cry when Sam’s head rises to meet his eyes. “Knew it was just a scratch. A puny rock isn’t enough to take down my stubborn little brother—“

Jason steps into his line of sight, blocking his view of Sam. “That’s enough out of you, mother fucker. By the end of this, you’re going to wish that your precious little bro never woke up,” he snarls, forcing Dean’s head up with a hand on his chin. Dean glares up at him, daring the brat do what he’s thinking.

Ignoring Dean, Jason starts talking, “The normal punishment for a Bro fucking anther Bro’s girl is being the house bitch for a week. As you’re an outsider, it doesn’t apply to you,” Jason mutters, starting to circle the older Winchester. Dean wishes that he would just get to the fucking point already. “With this in mind, I’ve decided on a substitute,” he drones on, and Dean resists the urge to yawn—just in case that worsens their already crappy situation. As Jason gets closer to Sam, and shoves a finger inside his mouth, Dean grows feral, struggling with renewed vigour. “Keep him tame, brothers. Here’s what’s going to happen to your _Sammy—_ you screwed my girl, so all of us are going to fuck your little brother, because if you _have_ a girl, she’s not here, and this is the next best option,” Jason shrugs like that part is trivial, and Dean is so ready to rip all of these douchebag’s apart.

“Why? Sammy didn’t do anything. He’s one of you, remember? A—what was it—fifty something generation?” Dean mutters, desperate for some sort of loophole. He can’t let them rape his brother. That’s _his_ Sammy. _His_ baby boy, who he loves more than anything in the entire world, and they’re going to gangbang him? No. Not happening. Dean would rather they take his ass than put Sam through that for his mistake. “Just do it to me, all right? Sammy doesn’t deserve this. He’s innocent. I fucked your girl, or whatever. So punish me! Please,” Dean begs, throwing every bit of sincerity in to his tone as he can muster. The idea of all these assholes filling him up makes him sick to his stomach, but he’ll do it if that means that Sam doesn’t have to.

Jason smirks grimly. “Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head. You’ll be taking part, just not the way that your _Sammy_ is,” he says, walking off to a table that’s holding a jar of something that Dean can’t quite put his finger on at the moment. He frowns—it looks like curdled milk. Jason places it in the centre of the room. The brothers all smirk smugly at the Winchester’s, some of them already eye-fucking his kid brother. “This is a jar that has been filled with all of my brothers’ cum for the past year. When a brother shoots a load inside your precious _Sammy,_ you’ll experience the same load in your ass—basically, we’ll use a pump—and so on and so forth. By the end of it, both of you will be equally as full,” Jason explains, and Dean nearly throws up in his mouth. What kind of person thinks up something like this? They’re not only going to fuck his brother full of cum, but practically inject it into him at the same time? Sick mother fuckers! “On top of all of that, pretty, we’re gonna be putting your lips to good use. You’re gonna suck a brother until he gets hard, and then he’s gonna fuck _your_ _Sammy._ That’s how this all works. If you play nice, I will personally make sure that your brother is as comfortable as possible, and he’s prepared well,” he continues, eyes so full of smugness that Dean’s almost sure they’re about to turn golden. “Are you going to behave for me? Just remember that this could be _so much worse_ for the both of you. Honestly, I don’t care if you choke on a cock and die, but you’re right when you say that this isn’t your brother’s fault. He’s just unfortunate enough to be related to someone like you,” Jason finishes, turning on his heel. He claps his hands for this to start, ordering some Abercrombie looking guy to work on opening Sam up nice for the boys.

Dean glares when someone stands in front of him, unzipping their fly, and pulling out their soft cock. Dean breathes deeply. _This is for Sammy. Make it good, make it quick—try and make them come down your throat. You know what you like when it comes to getting good head, Dean, so make all those times count._

Trying to make this less awkward, Dean smirks. “Well, what are you waiting for, big boy?” Dean opens his mouth, instantly coating the dudes cock with his spit to get rid of that salty-ass taste. When hands press against the sides of his head, he doesn’t struggle. He lets them fuck his face, putting as much suction into his lips as he can.

“Holy shit, Jas. This dude is fucking incredible,” the dude says, thrusting into Dean’s mouth, already hard as nails. Dean adds his tongue to the mix, knowing that he likes it when a girl’s tongue teases along the length of his cock. Dean tries not to scrunch his face up at the feeling of the guy’s dick pulsing inside his mouth.

His throat is already protesting. He’s never done this before, and something like that is to be expected at this point. Nevertheless, he continues on, humming in order to add vibrations to the suction, effectively causing the dudes eyes to roll back into his head, clearly so lost in the pleasure that he doesn’t realize he’s sweating, and he’s just about to completely lose it.

Dean bites back a smug grin when the first layer of cum drenches the flap of his tongue.

The guy thrusts a few more times, breaths coming in shallow pants, barely able to reign himself in. Dean doesn’t blame the dude—he’s a pretty fast learner. _That’s one less cock going in Sammy’s ass._

“Erik! For fuck sake, man. You were supposed to pull out when you were hard enough to fuck his little brother,” Jason snarls, slapping the guy on the ear as he pulls out of Dean’s mouth. “Get out of here. You can’t be in on the fun anymore,” he demands, narrowing his eyes at the older Winchester. “I was right to make you the sucker. Guy’s, know that if you come in his mouth, you’re exiled from this room, _got it?”_ There are a chorus of affirmations from the hoard of dudes. Dean inwardly glares. Guess that’s the best that he could have done for now.

The next cock appears at his mouth, and he takes it in with ease, sucking it like a lollipop. If he can get them off, then they’ll leave the room anyway. Jason can’t blame him for them shooting their loads in his mouth.

As he’s sucking as hard as he can, Jason observes him. Dean can see him out of the corner of his eyes. “Take his pants off,” Jason instructs, and they’re gone in no time at all. He gurgles somewhat as six guys lift his legs up, and dislodge his shoes, socks, and jeans. “Just making sure you’re ready for when the first guy comes up your brother’s ass.”

Dean has never felt this exposed in his life. As the guy pulls out of his mouth, he sees Sam bent over the table, arms tightly held behind his younger brothers’ back by two guys on each side. Abercrombie guy is shoving his fingers in Sam’s ass, and Sam’s—

Sam’s moaning.

“Fuck... Ugn—“

“You like that?” Abercrombe asks, amused. Dean catches his elbow turning, and then Sam’s crying out in pleasure, head thrown back.

Jason laughs. “I think Sammy likes it. Oh, well. It’s not his punishment. It’s yours,” he states, directing another guy to shove his cock in Dean’s mouth. Dean puffs his cheeks out, accepting the slightly larger than the last dick into his mouth, constricting around it.

_Sammy’s... Loving this._

Dean listens to Sam moaning deep and long, a bang on the table signifying that Sam just slammed his hand down on top of it.

“Fuck, dude! Your mouth,” random dude says, pulling on the small strands of Dean’s hair to get a better tempo.

Dean swallows the load that splashes the back of his throat. Jason sends the dude packing, demanding that another one step up to the plate, one that can last longer than ten seconds, preferably.

For some reason, Dean starts seeing these guys as challenges. He’s managed to wring two loads now. Two cocks less for Sam to take, as the assholes are no longer around. As the next guy comes along, better looking than the guy before him, Dean seals his mouth around the cock—pretending that it’s Sammy thrusting into his mouth. Don’t take this the wrong way, he does not like this one bit. But at least picturing it being Sammy that he’s satisfying, he can increase his efforts to get this over with.

Another load slides down his throat, dribbling out of the corners of his mouth. Jason stomps up to him. “You know what? No more cocks for you. You’re just gonna kneel there and watch as your little _Sammy_ is repeatedly filled—don’t think for a second that that means you’re off the hook from taking the load up your ass,” Jason snaps, ordering his brothers to start crowding Sam. He says that they can use his mouth if they want, but it’s crucial that they come up his ass, so that the cock-sucking douche-bag can take more rounds.

Dean feels his button hole tighten at the prospect. He forces it to relax. _This is all for Sammy. All of it. God, why does Sammy have to look so hot right now?_

Now that there aren’t cocks being shoved in his face, Dean has a full view of what his brother is going through. They’ve turned him onto his front now. Some douche-y looking guy is guiding their cock in and out of Sam’s mouth, while Abercrombe slaps the head of his cock over Sam’s twitching hole.

_Sammy wants this—his ass is practically begging for it. What the hell is going on here?_

“You want that cock, don’t you, Sammy?” Abercrombie teases, sliding just the head through the furled entrance. 

Dean hears Sam moan around the cock in his mouth. How is this happening? Dean’s ready to spill all sorts of blood when Abercrombie pushes into his little brother, throwing a grin over his tanned shoulder at the older Winchester.

_You son of a bitch. I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry._

Sam’s body jolts at the initial penetration, eyes finding Dean’s from across the room. They stay locked in a staring contest as Abercrombie pounds into Sam, forcing him further up the table with each thrust. Sam doesn’t seem to care, he’s turning his head to take a cock into his mouth, eyes still trained on Dean. This is so weird, and so wrong, and yet it’s turning him on. Dean feels like he’s back in that day where he had been sparring with fourteen year old Sammy, and his cock started to harden. Like it is now. And Jason is noticing, and he’s teasing him about it.

“Does someone like to watch their little bro get plowed?” Jason taunts, blocking Dean’s view of Sam jerking another two cocks in his hands, as Abercrombie fucks into him hard. “This is supposed to be a punishment, dude. Well, I guess it is considering we’re taking what _belongs_ to you,” Jason goes on to say, clicking his fingers at one of his followers. “Bend over in front of him, let him get a taste for your ass.” Moments later, Dean has a muscled ass in his face, cheeks spread apart to expose a hole. There’s a scent of musk crawling up his nose—it’s not pleasant, but he ignores it. He swipes his tongue along the guy’s rim, layering it with his own spit to reduce the smell once again. It’s not long before it just tastes like skin, slightly dryer.

Dean catches Sam’s eyes over the top of the dude’s bent form, tunnelling his tongue inside, pretending that it’s Sam’s beautiful round globes pushing back against his face. He would eat Sam out for all eternity if that’s what Sam wanted. The guy groans, pushing the back of his head, forcing him further into his ass, and Dean sucks on the soaked entrance, imaging Sam. _Always Sam. No one but Sam._

“Oh, fuck! Yeah, eat that ass,” dude mutters, sucking in a breath as Dean’s warm, moist tongue slithers inside him.

Abercrombie is really giving it to Sam now, sweat forming on his back as he stretches Sam wide. Why did they have to start with someone that big? Dean stops himself from saying anything. If he does that, they might make it worse. He just needs to keep his big mouth shut, lick as many asses as he has to, or suck as many cocks as he has to, or takes as many loads in his butt—anything to release the pressure on Sam.

Dean’s eyes widen as he hears, “Dean—more,” Sam moans, forcing Abercrombie’s cock deeper inside him, while voicing Dean’s name. If Dean wasn’t hard before, he is now. His tongue lashes against mystery dudes ass, shoving it in as far as he can go, imagining Sam’s warm channel clenching around his tongue.

“Who’s Dean?” Jason questions, regarding the older Winchester for a brief moment.

“His boyfriend,” Dean lies—sort of—maybe after this--, and goes back to thrusting his tongue inside the random dude angled in front of him.

Jason grins, shrugging. “Whatever makes it easier for the dude,” he says, barking at Abercrombie if he’s ready yet. Abercrombie nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thrusts a few more times into Sam. “Excellent. James, prepare the first load,” Jason commands, nodding his head at the guy’s holding Dean against his will. They force his face closer to the ground, random guy having moved out of the way. His legs are yanked to the side, spreading him out more, exposing his hole to the cool air.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come!” Abercrombie wails, slamming hard one more time into Sam, body stuttering as he empties his seed into Sam’s ass.

Dean cringes when the mouth of the tube nudges his hole, slicked by the cum drenching the silicon. It breaches Dean just enough to pass the first ring of muscle, and then Dean feels the messy substance being pumped into his asshole, lining the walls of his rectum. He feels completely violated. Not to mention ill. How can Sam like this? They’re not even holding on to him anymore. Jason just tells the next one who is closest to reaching the finish line to line themselves up, and they’re filling Sam up again, pounding into his already abused hole over and over again—cocks ramming down his throat, and thrusting through the circle of his hands.

Jason sneers at him, lifting his chin once again. “That’s what your brother is going through. I bet you’ve never felt closer to him,” Jason suggests, laying himself out on his back in front of Dean. Jason undoes his pants, then slides them off his legs, pulling his knees back to his shoulders. “Since you love eating ass so much, you can munch on mine,” he says, wiggling his hips to signal Dean to get busy.

Dean takes one look at Sam getting plowed by another cock, then bows his neck, licking a stripe over Jason’s hole. For some reason, he notes that Jason tastes like talc, which isn’t unpleasant. Jason orders his brothers to let Dean use his hands. Dean does, immediately pulling Jason’s ass-cheeks further apart, pretending that Jason is his Sammy, and that he’s the one fucking into his younger brother. That’s how it should be right now.

He pushes his tongue as far as it will go inside Jason’s ass. The guy arches his back, butt rubbing against Dean’s face, clearly wanting to feel more. Dean decides now that he’s got a little more control under his wings, that he should use some of his flawless charm on this douchebag.

 Dean trails his tongue from Jason’s hole to his perineum, flashing a wolfish grin as he rubs the pad of his index finger over Jason’s entrance, temporarily dipping it inside.

“Fuck,” Jason moans. “Push it in,” he demands, mesmerized as Dean slides his finger in all the way to the primary knuckle. Dean drags it back halfway out, then gently presses down on Jason’s prostate—he’s done some research on this for whenever there came a time that Sam would be with him—may have practised on a couple of guys, too—forcing a moan from the leader of the fraternity.

Dean can see that he’s turning Jason on.

“You like that? You like that finger in your ass? Do you want more?” Dean takes note of the guy thrusting into Sam making a stupid face before releasing his load, and the residue glistening at the corners of Sam’s mouth.

“I do. Add another. James, two this time—get to it—you, keep going,” Dean adds a second finger to Jason, thrusting them deep, then gently stretching them out, easing them along Jason’s G-spot, locking eyes with Sam in a way that says _this bitch is you._ Sam’s response is a hooding of his eyes, and a hard suck to the cock in his mouth, clearly indicating that _these jerks are all you._

Dean makes a face as two sets of semen are squirted into him. It’s so uncomfortable. Sam doesn’t seem to notice, as one of the guys he was jacking off moves down to his ass, gripping Sam’s wide shoulders as they bury themselves to the hilt.

“Know what, mother fucker?” Jason spits, eyes rolling back as Dean inserts a third finger. “Show me why my girl wanted you. Prove to me that it was purely for the sex, and I won’t make you take the entire jar,” Jason proposes, spreading his cheeks wider to accommodate Dean’s fingers pumping into him.

Dean arches a brow, wincing as the guys that had been holding him down push the bits of cum that are leaking out of his ass back inside him. It’s a smooth glide, but it feels all sorts of wrong—like insects are crawling around his innards.

“You—huh---want me to fuck you?”

Jason smirks. “Yes. If it’s so good I get why she rolled around in the sack with you, this’ll be over sooner. If it’s not, or you refuse, buckle up—“

Dean’s face pinches as round four shoots up his ass. “Have you ever been fucked before?”

“Yes. I’ve experimented. Enough chit chat, just put your cock inside me already. Make it the best you can, mother fucker,” Jason growls with determination, seemingly not at all ashamed that he’s about to be fucked by the guy that he’s been torturing all this time.

“In that case. Get ready,” Dean says. At least with this, he can focus on things other than the copious amounts of cum up his butt, and Sam getting plowed by more cocks than a farm possesses.

He lines up his cock with Jason’s hole, slowly pushing in until his balls are pressed up against Jason’s ass. He starts seeing long, floppy hair, and curious hazel eyes staring back at him—glazed and ready for the next stage. Jason breathes through it, then nods for Dean to start moving.

Dean can tell that within minutes, he is the best fuck that Jason has ever had in his entire life.

“Yeah! Oh my God. Pound my hole, you  son of a bitch. Yeah, right there! Fuck, harder!” he moans, head thrashing as Dean slams his cock through Jason’s tight passage, imagining only Sam hanging off the end of his dick—not this whiney little weasel.

Another guy comes up Sam’s ass, pulling out with slight care. They’re actually being really gentle with him. Even taken to start thanking him once they’re done. As they finish, another tube is forced far enough into Dean’s ass to release its contents. He shudders through it, not letting up for a second—fucking into Jason’s body, thinking of Sam’s tight channel closing around his cock.

Five slots of cum later, Jason tells Dean to stop, about ready to bust his nut all over himself by the looks of it. “Okay,” Jason starts, trying to get his breath back. “Clearly you’re very, _very_ good at sex. I believe that it was just for sex. My girl doesn’t want to be with you,” he continues, standing up, hard cock leaking from the slit. “This will be over sooner than I first planned. Right now, you’re gonna suck your brother’s cock; take some more loads, and I’ll instruct you on what to do next,” Jason finishes, gesturing for him to make his way over.

Dean is at Sam’s side in a heartbeat, leaning over Sam’s stretched right leg to get to his cock. He takes it into his mouth immediately, moaning at the taste of Sam exploding on his tongue. Sam’s hips stutter, and Dean accepts as much of Sam down his throat as he can manage. His brother is huge. Dean has known this for a long time, but he’ll do anything for his Sammy.

Dean watches another frat boy stick their cock in Sam’s ass, thrusting erratically, until they can’t hold it in anymore. They announce that they’re about to shoot their load, so another tube is dipped in the jar of cum, sucking up the juices. Just as they pump it inside the older Winchester, ropes of sperm splash over Sam’s cheeks. With that, another round is squeezed into him.

He does his best to focus on Sam’s cock gliding along his tongue, and not the wayward fingers shoving inside his ass, making sure to stop any of the contents from spilling out. It’s not painful in the slightest. It just feels... Gross. Yeah, gross.

As one leaves the room, another guy pounds into Sam’s ass. Dean hopes that this doesn’t put the both of them off sex forever. “Mm, fuck—Dean. Harder,” Sam screams, eyes slammed shut in bliss. Dean nearly shoots over the table like a kid just discovering his dick can do stuff other than pee.

Dean increases the suction around Sam’s cock, taking his little brother to the hilt. Tears well up in his eyes, but he keeps them at bay, relishing all the moans, and thrusts of Sam’s hips. At least Sammy is enjoying this. At least he can get something from Dean—just a taste to show him what life could be like for them.

Jason folds his arms over his chest. “Okay, mother fucker—put your ass in Sam’s face—don’t stop sucking his cock, ‘cause when he comes in your mouth, you’re gonna spit it into his, and then he’s gonna push it inside you. After all, his load counts as a load,” he orders. Dean climbs into positioning, feeling really awkward with his leaking hole dangling in Sam’s face.

When Sam’s tongue drags over his furled hole, he moans around the cock in his mouth. This isn’t the first time that he’s had a tongue in his ass. And with the way Sam’s going at it like he’s the most tastiest treat on the planet, Sam can do it as often as he wants.

“Yeah, Sammy. Eat your brother’s ass. Taste all that cum,” Jason husks, clearly turned on beyond compare by now. Dean sees the current guy climax, filling his brother with more cum. He shakes his head, continuing to bob on Sam’s cock, constricting his throat as much as he can. He wants Sam to come down his throat. In a way, he’s sort of excited for what Jason is going to think of next, and isn’t that just all kinds of fucked up?

_What is happening to you, man?_

“Here, Sam. You do the honour,” Jason says, handing Sam the prepared tube. Dean’s face scrunches up as Sam pumps it into him, a kiss on his ass cheek resonating like an apology.

Dean taps a code on Sam’s hipbone.

_I’m sorry._

Sam replies.

_Don’t be._

Dean hears Sam gurgle as another cock breeches his mouth. Dean increases his efforts, sucking, bobbing, twisting his head, lathing his tongue over the underside of Sam’s engorged member.

Five more rounds of injections, and Sam is close. He shouts Dean’s name as he shoots inside his mouth. Dean gathers it on his tongue, then turns himself around, crushing their lips together as he swaps the cum over, just taking a moment to tangle their tongues together, feeling all of Sam. Ignoring all of the cocks that have been in this mouth. This is Sammy’s mouth—and his mouth. They will be joined for the rest of their fucking lives if Dean can help it.

With the exchange done, Dean puts his knees either side of Sam’s head. Sam gets the message, holding Dean open as he spits at Dean’s hole, nudging his fingers inside. Dean tenses around him, and Dean looks down into Sam’s eyes, worry lines appearing on his skin. Not even Sam’s fingers feel good—it all just feels wrong.

_But it’s Sam. If Sam likes this, then—_

“ _Dean,”_ Sam whispers, licking the outer-edges of Dean’s heavy balls. “ _I want you inside me. That’s what I want. Don’t worry, ‘kay?”_ Sam assures him, and Dean could cry right now he loves Sam so much. His brother just knows that he’s uncomfortable. He doesn’t have to be told at all. Just can tell. Like that. Doesn’t need a second to think about it. And Dean can tell that Sam’s aware that Dean would go through it for Sam if that’s what his little brother wanted.

_Thank God you don’t, Sammy. I love you._

_“I love you, too,”_ Sam says softly, moaning loudly as yet another cock thrusts inside him.

“Get back over here, mother fucker. There’ll be another load to take soon,” Jason mutters, and Dean wordlessly—and regretfully—shuffles away from Sam, resuming his position leaning his elbows against the table—butt sticking out, legs spread apart, watching a less-thick, more-long dick ramming into his little brother. He can’t wait for this all to be over, so he can show Sam that he is the only one for him. That it’ll just be them from this point onwards. No more girls; no more anything.

_All Sammy. Nothing else._

Jason is right. A few minutes later, round nineteen is pumped into his body. He feels so gross on the inside—so violated it’s unreal. If this is what women feel when they’re trying to get pregnant, why go through with it?

The next three guys take turns on Sam, all inevitably emptying thick ropes of cum inside the younger Winchester, which provokes three more instalments of cum into Dean. Dean has no idea how Sam is feeling right now, but Dean is about ready to burst. He’s so glad that it’s impossible for dudes to get pregnant, otherwise both he and Sammy would be dealing with quintuplet situations.

When the next guy pulls out of Sam, and Dean receives load twenty-three, Jason announces that it’s his turn. He catches Dean’s eyes as he stands between Sam’s bowed legs, swiftly entering him. “Mother fucker, fuck me until I come deep in your brother, and then you can be the last one of the night to tap his ass,” Jason mouths off, staring over his shoulder as Dean eyes him predatory.

This is the last one. Then he can have Sam. None of these dicks will ever touch Sam again. It’ll just be them. He’s gonna make this douche come so fucking _hard,_ and then Sam is _his—his finally._

Dean clenches his ass as he immediately fucks into Jason, forcing the young man to impale his Sammy. He grips Jason’s hips, furiously pounding into his ass, gripping Jason’s right shoulder, bending him forward and thrusting harder into him—skin slapping against skin echoing around the room from the force of his charge.

“Fuck! Yes, Dean. Fuck, so good!” Sam moans. That’s because of him. Jason is just a puppet that Dean has to use for now to make Sam feel good. That is all.

Jason moans along with Sam, head lolling to the side as he just allows Dean to push him further into Sam. Dean doesn’t care. He doesn’t need Jason to put any effort in. This is all for Sam. When this is over, Dean is going to make sure that Sam forgets about this entire night.

Ten minutes later, Jason is clenching around Dean’s cock. “Fuck... Ah, shit,” he groans, shooting inside Sam. Dean pulls out of him instantly, looking around the room at the other guys just watching—clearly the muscle if Dean decided to do something to upset their _leader._

Jason steps out of Sam’s space, catching his breath. “All right. He’s all yours,” he mumbles, taking hold of the pump recently prepared. He shoves it up inside Dean, and releases the contents. “Punishment over, mother fucker. When you’re done here, get the fuck out. You won’t be welcome back here,” he orders, rallying his brothers, before walking out of the room, leaving Dean staring at his naked, sweaty, fucked out—flushed face, hard all over again— _beautiful_ brother.

Sam stares at him, mouth slack. “You gonna do what he said?”

“Do you... really want me to?” With Dean situated between Sam’s leg, the younger man has the opportunity to wrap has hand around Dean’s cock. He pulls him forward, tugging gently, then rubs Dean’s tip against his ready and _very_ willing hole. Dean swallows. “Are you sure?” He asks again _just in case._ This is the time for Sam to say that it had all been an act, and he’s furious with Dean for putting them through this, but the past is the past, and they should just move on.

“Dean. Please. Stick. Your. Big. Fat. Sexy. Cock. Inside. Me. Please. Dean,” Sam punctuates each word, smirking at Dean.

“Oh, you want it that bad, uh?” Dean grins at him, shoving all the way inside his brother, eyes rolling back at the still _so_ tight heat hugging his member with all of its warmth, bathing him in sensations that he never thought were possible until now.

“Dean! Fuck, you feel so amazing—just go already,” Sam encourages, wiggling his hips. Dean drives into him, bottoming out, then thrusting back in, pushing Sam further up the table.

They get completely lost in each other. Their breaths meld together in the air, getting heavier and heavier as time passes. Their sweat blends into their skin, slicking the way as they thrust against each other, Dean getting deeper and deeper with each piston of his hips.

Sam repeatedly chants for him to go harder. That he can take all of it. He’s not a delicate little flower that Dean needs to take care of, or go easy on. He’s a grown ass man that just took twenty-four loads of cum without a second to catch his breath. At the mention of that, Dean feels the sticky fluid dripping down the backs of his thighs. He ignores it, focusing solely on making Sam feel good.

That is all that’s important to him. He needs Sam to want him.

“I’m gonna make you forget everything that they did to you, baby boy,” Dean declares, thrusting hard into his brother, gliding along Sam’s hyperactive sweet spot over and over.

Sam rolls his eyes, squeezing them shut as Dean slowly slides into him, nudging him closer and closer against the table. “They never existe—oh, fuck—existed Dean. Thought of you the whole time,” he admits, and Dean feels a boost of confidence curl up his spine, renewing all of the energy he might have lost.

He pulls out shortly, lifts Sam’s legs, and buries his face in Sam’s ass, scenting him, while pushing his tongue inside. He rocks Sam’s legs over his shoulders, lines up again, and then thrusts back in, spearing his kid brother.

“You’re mine, Sammy. No one else is ever gonna touch you after this. Just me. And same goes for me. You’re the only one that gets to see me like this,” Dean promises, pumping his hips rhythmically. “Only thought of you, too, Sammy. All those dicks fucking my mouth were you—those asses in my face were you—Jason’s body was you when I was screwing him. Promise, baby boy. Always gonna be you,” Dean carries on, feeling like this all needs to be said.

“All yours, Dean. And you’re all mine—I like that,” Sam replies with a wink, clenching his hole around Dean’s dick. Dean presses their lips together, thrusting his tongue into Sam’s mouth with the same speed that he fucks into Sam’s thoroughly used hole.

“Sammy,” Dean gets his little brothers’ attention, lips now kiss-bruised. “ _Come_ for me. Do it,” he demands, slamming into Sam’s prostate, desperately trying to milk him for all he’s worth.

Sam releases between them with a hoarse cry of Dean’s name, and then Dean’s tearing into Sam’s shoulder, declaring his love into Sam’s flesh as Sam’s hole fluttered around him, ripping Dean’s orgasm from within him, filling Sam full of more cum.

Dean collapses on top of him from the intensity, body deflating. They breathe together for a while, Sam’s fingernails scratching Dean’s scalp, legs clearly worn from all the stress of remaining open for all of this time. There is so much residue all around them that they both compare their situation to being at a Taiwanese whore house. Somehow, they manage to share a laugh, kissing in between.

“As much as I love you lying all over me, I think we should make a start of getting some of this come out of our butts,” Sam proposes. Dean leans up, eyes questioning how they are supposed to do that. Sam’s bitch face makes its grand return. “We take the pumps, and suck up what we can, then squeeze it back into the jar.”

“You’re a genius. I love that idea. This feels fucking gross,” Dean complains, standing up.

“You wanna go first?” Sam questions, standing on shaking legs.

“Sure, it’ll give you a chance to get some feeling back into your legs,” he concedes, bending over the table. Sam makes quick work of inserting the pump, taking a round—getting two at a time so that it’s over faster. When it gets to a point where residue isn’t soaking up into the pump, Sam deems Dean semi-clean.

“My turn,” Sam says, appearing tired. Dean takes extra care extracting all of the cum. “I don’t want you to feel guilty, Dean. Not only did I really like that, but it opened our eyes to each other. In a weird way, I’m glad it happened,” Sam admits, starting to feel less full.

Dean nods behind Sam. “Yeah, me too. Sort of. I mean, this is fucking gross, and that Jason guy has a sick mind—but you’re right. Without his messed up ways, we wouldn’t have seen what we wanted all along.”

“Not that it really matters now—I don’t care if all these cult weirdoes get killed, but I did figure out what it was we could have been up against.”

“Yeah? Vengeful spirit?” Dean smirks.

Sam glowers. “You spent your time getting into some girl’s pants, and you still managed to figure it out?” From the way that Sam is glaring at him like this is totally not fair, Dean feigns innocence, pretending that it had just been a lucky guess. If Sam wants to feel like he cracked the whole thing, Dean will allow that.

“Please, Sam. How did you figure it out?”

After a huff worthy of a younger version of _his_ Sammy, he gives Dean the rundown of what he did to find his conclusion, while they put their clothes back on, silently communicating that they are never coming back to a frat house— _ever_ again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
